Courage
by bookworm bffs
Summary: She has been through a lot. Many bad things a child should not be exposed to. Will she push forward, keep moving, continue on? Or will she be lost in her sorrows forever? *DARK TOPICS, SWEARING* My original story:


**One Year Old**

"GET OUT YOU LAZY ASSHOLE!"

"FINE, YOU'RE A WORTHLESS BITCH ANYWAYS!"

He stormed out. She walked over the crib and picked up the soon to be one year old baby she now had to raise by herself. As of sixteen years old, she was alone.

**Eight Years Old**

That baby girl was growing up. She ran to the corner as yet another beer bottle flew her way. She cried and tried to dodge another.

"Mommy, why don't you love me? What did I do?"

"You're the reason he left! The reason I'm alone! You little worthless bitch!"

The beer bottle hit its target. And unconscious girl lay on the floor blood dripping from her shoulder.

**Twelve Years Old**

Now a teenager, the young girl ran upstairs in a fit of tears, sure to be silent. Her mother had just fallen asleep after one of her drunken fits.

She crumbled to the ground and felt for her cure, her answer. She drew a deep line, adding to all the others scattered on her four-arm. Blood gushed out dripping on the carpet. She watched, as it was as if all her worries flooded away with the blood. The next day, she still pulled herself up and went to school.

She sat at lunch just as she normally did, alone. Suddenly somebody came up to her.

"Hi. Can I sit here?"

They became best friend after that, him being the only one she could tell, she had to go to.

**Fifteen Years Old**

She looked in the mirror, at her body. She hadn't eaten in six days and wasn't planning on it anytime soon. She stared at the reflection and burst into tears.

"Stupid." She muttered.

"Ugly." She whispered again

"Worthless." She stated finally.

She picked up her knife and added to the collection, but this one was different, worse. She blacked out and wondered, _Is this what death feels like? Dark, Alone, Peaceful?_

She faintly felt arms wrap around her back and under her knees.

She woke up days later in a hospital with a huge cast around her wrist. The boy that had been there for the past three years stood over her. Just before she fell asleep again, she heard a faint "I love you." But it was only a dream of course.

**Sixteen Years Old**

She walked in the door and saw her mother lying on the floor, not breathing. She called an ambulance and waited for them to come. They got there and announced the fatality. Her mother was dead.

Months passed and life went on. The court date came and declared her, her own guardian. That summer she fell in love with a new boy. But was it really love? Or was it the need of people, the loneliness, the comfort in being wanted?

**Seventeen Years Old**

She was officially pregnant. When she told the father, who she had made the mistake of thinking loved her for the past year, he told her it was over, and said he never wanted to see her again.

Four months into the pregnancy, she went to sleep early. But that night she woke up to a loud crack of the window. Somebody had broken in. She Picked up the knife she had grown so fond of and went downstairs.

The intruder picked up everything in sight. All of her savings, and he even took the keys to her car. He must of heard her coming because he whipped around, fired two shots into her stomach and ran out. She picked up her cell phone and dialed a familiar number. The one who could always make it better, always help.

He got there as fast as he could with and ambulance on its way also. But, there was no mistaking it, the baby was gone.

She moved in with him and his family after that, for she couldn't pay for a house, and he wanted to protect her.

When she moved in her grades in school instantly went up, she got a better job, and her bones got less distinct. Smiles formed, frowns faded, and scares stayed as scares instead of wounds.

**Nineteen Years Old**

That same girl walked down the isle two years later, marrying the one who had protected her all those years. When he promised to stay by her side in sickness, or in health, she knew he would. He had for the last seven years. She vowed from that day on to love him forever.

She promised herself to help others, take care of her future children, and not touch a drop of alcohol as long as she lived. She kept those promises to.

**Twenty Eight** **Years Old**

She went to work, and helped young kids keep moving forward everyday. She went home and was a mother to her four year old daughter and one year old son. She was a mother to them, and if you asked her she wasn't a therapist at work. She was a mother there to. A mother she never had. The help she didn't have for the first twelve years of her life.

Would you like to know what her name was? It was Courage.

_**Authors Note: Hey y'all. Amber here. I know it is a rather dark fic, but I just wanted to write about how even when it feels like you have no hope, it gets better. This was inspired by two things, a quote, and a song.**_

_**The song is:**_

_**Courage Is by The Strange Familiar**_

_**And the quote is: **_

_**Courage does not always roar like a lion,**_

_**Sometimes it only whispers at the very end of the day,**_

"_**I will try again tomorrow"**_

_**~Unknown**_


End file.
